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He took a deep breath before going farther. The small house seemed even smaller with all three girls home for the summer, plus Hannah and her mother. Every flat surface, it seemed, was cluttered with books, backpacks, water bottles, DVDs, magazines, and electronics. The entire place smelled of hair products.

April went straight to her bedroom and closed the door behind her without a word to anyone, as was her custom. Sheridan and Lucy shared the bedroom across the hall, but both seemed okay with the arrangement. Neither wanted to room with April, although they didn’t say so directly. Marybeth had let the girls sort out the sleeping arrangements under a parental philosophy she described to Joe as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

Joe found Marybeth, Sheridan, and Pam Roberson sitting at the kitchen table, drinking iced tea. All three looked up expectantly, and Joe’s eyes lingered on Pam for a moment, trying to read her. She looked wan and exhausted, and thinner than usual, although she’d always been trim. Pam had an angular weathered face, high cheekbones, and thick shoulder-length strawberry hair feathered into an early-eighties look. She wore a sleeveless top and jeans, and her shoulders were freckled. Joe thought she was almost attractive-probably had been when she was in her teens and twenties-but looked and dressed as if she had never left that period.

Like her husband, she was plainspoken and blunt; smart, honest, and hardworking-if not well educated. Joe recalled her saying once she’d attended college for a couple of years but then dropped out when she’d met Butch. She wanted her daughter to get a degree. She doted on Hannah, whom she urged to strive high and accomplish something. Pam was intensely involved in school activities and was always there when the school administration needed a chaperone for a field trip or a dance, or cookies for a bake sale. She was one of those behind-the-scenes mothers who made everything work.

Although she’d been to their home many times to drop off and pick up Hannah, Joe rarely saw her because it usually happened during his working day when he was out in the field. It seemed odd to see her sitting with such familiarity at his kitchen table, and he guessed she must have done it frequently over the past two years of their daughters’ friendship.

“I heard they found two bodies on our lot,” she said, finally.

“News travels fast,” Joe said.

“Dulcie,” Marybeth said, holding up her cell phone. “She’s kept me in the loop.”

Joe nodded, wondering if Marybeth realized that by being kept in the loop she was now sharing information with a suspect, or at least the wife of a suspect.

“I heard you saw Butch today,” Pam said to Joe.

“I did.”

“Did he. . seem okay to you?”

“You haven’t heard from him yourself?” Joe asked.

Pam shook her head no and lowered her eyes.

Before proceeding, Joe glanced at Sheridan, who was watching and listening intently. He didn’t want her to become involved, just like he never wanted his family to become too involved, although they did. Sheridan knew the look and rolled her eyes.

It was an awkward time for them all, Joe knew. Sheridan had lived away at college for a year by herself, and now she was home. She was an adult, yet she wasn’t, and it was tough for all of them to sort out what exactly she was. She liked to eat with the family when her mom cooked-usually-but often went into town to be with her friends. She often declared her independence, yet was dependent when she wanted to be. Joe wasn’t sure yet how to act around her, and he thought Sheridan wasn’t sure what her role was, either. They had been extremely close while Sheridan grew up, and Joe thought for a while she might follow in his footsteps. Now he wasn’t so sure, and he suspected she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, either.

In two weeks, she’d be heading off to Laramie for her second year at the university. Joe didn’t even want to think about it yet.

“There’s pizza in the fridge,” Marybeth said.

“I could make you a salad,” Sheridan offered. She was still wearing her T-shirt top that read BURG-O-PARDNER over the breast.

Joe raised his eyebrows.

“Part of my job,” she said. “After I take customers’ orders and turn them in, I have to make the salads and get soup and bread for them. So I’ve turned into quite the little salad jockey.”

“I don’t eat salad,” Joe said. “You know that.”

“You should start,” she said, grinning. “Man can’t live on meat alone.”

“I have.”

He sat down with a plate of pizza slices, glanced at Pam, and said, “So here we are.”

“Sheridan. .” Marybeth said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sheridan said, pushing her chair back. “Nice to see you, Pam,” she said.

Joe noted she called her Pam, not Mrs. Roberson.

Then to Joe and Marybeth: “I’ll be out back in the barn with my new bird.”

“New bird?” Joe asked, surprised.

“Just a little kestrel,” Sheridan said over her shoulder as she went to the back door. “You’ll need to come out and see it.”

Joe and Marybeth exchanged glances. While Sheridan had been Nate Romanowski’s apprentice in falconry, both had assumed she’d lost interest. Apparently not, Joe thought.

Marybeth said, “Joe, Pam wants to talk with you to see if you can offer some advice.”

Joe narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a lawyer.”

“I know that,” Pam said.

“She doesn’t need legal help yet,” Marybeth continued, “but since you’ve been involved in this. . thing all day, you might have some insight.”

“Or not,” Joe said.

“I trust you and Marybeth,” Pam said. “Right now, I’m not sure who else I can trust. Is it true some big shot from the EPA put a reward out on Butch’s head?”

“Yes,” Joe said.

“Can he do that?” Pam asked, wide-eyed.

“He seems to think he can.”

“Joe, what is going on?” Pam asked.

Joe chewed deliberately on a slice of pizza. He swallowed and said to Pam, “I was hoping you’d tell me what’s going on. Sheriff Reed said it was something he couldn’t even believe happened.”

She nodded, and took a deep breath.

Before she began, Joe said, “Pam, you need to have something clear in your mind before you start. I’m-we’re-your friend, but I’m also in law enforcement. I have an oath to keep. I’m not officially interrogating you, and you don’t have to tell me a thing if you don’t want. But if you do, keep in mind that it isn’t between friends, so to speak.”

Pam looked desperate, and turned to Marybeth.

Marybeth said, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Pam said, “I want you to stay. But I already told the sheriff everything. I don’t have any secrets. I’m just surprised Joe is acting like this.”

“He has to,” Marybeth said, reaching out and patting the back of Pam’s hand. “Don’t take it personally.”

“I’ll try not to,” Pam said, gathering herself together and throwing her shoulders back. Then, to Joe, “I’ll start at the beginning.”

“Good place to start,” he said.

8

“Butch wanted a place to retire in the mountains, on a lake,” Pam Roberson said, “and he didn’t want to leave Wyoming. Montana would have been okay, or Idaho, but it was his dream to own a home closer to where he hunts and fishes. He practically lives for those things, you know. He likes to say he feels like he was born one hundred fifty years too late.”

Joe nodded. It was a familiar story. He knew dozens of men who were hard workers and could pull in more income if they relocated elsewhere. North Dakota was booming, and it wasn’t that far away, for example. But the reason they lived and worked in Wyoming, he knew, was because of the outdoor culture, the lack of people, and the resources; specifically, big-game hunting and great trout fishing. It certainly wasn’t because of the wind or the weather.

“So five years ago,” Pam said, “he was talking with one of the developers of Aspen Highlands. They wanted him to build a spec home up there to help get it going. As you know, we’re not wealthy people and our little construction company kind of exists week-to-week. Not many people are building homes these days, and those that want to can’t get bank loans, so it’s tough. So, financially, we really couldn’t make it work to do a spec home with no guaranteed return right away. But the developers offered Butch and me a deaclass="underline" build the home in exchange for a lot that was worth sixty thousand dollars. We didn’t get first pick because they wanted real money for the first few sales, but we saw it as our opportunity to have the place Butch had always wanted in the mountains.”